


let's pick a truth that we believe in

by jennycaakes



Category: Check Please! (Webcomic)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Apocalypse, End of the World, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Pandemics, Post-Apocalypse, don’t worry nobody dies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-26
Updated: 2020-04-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 08:48:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,769
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23848459
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jennycaakes/pseuds/jennycaakes
Summary: They've survived the end of the world but Will's sick and Derek can't do this without him.//An in-universe end of the world fic
Relationships: Derek "Nursey" Nurse/William "Dex" Poindexter
Comments: 23
Kudos: 129





	let's pick a truth that we believe in

**Author's Note:**

> lol what do you mean i wrote a fic abt the end of the world in the middle of the end of the world are you kidding jenn. sorry folks! it's cathartic! the world is scary and sad rn so this little fic i kicked it up a notch and made it scarier and sadder! i know the world will not get to this level and i am not trying to make people more afraid, i am sorry! please do not yell at me, this is just fic!
> 
> i hope you're all taking care and i'm sending deep love to you all. stay safe out there! and remember, this fic contains a fake pandemic for fic purposes only. thank you!
> 
> also Yes, just to be clear, they're in their senior year when this happens so it's like, check please universe + end of the world. again, totally cool if not your thing!
> 
> ps- this is my 100th fic? weird af

It’d been years since the initial outbreak, almost another full year since the last big wave went around, and up until now they’d managed well. They were fairly healthy and kept their distance from other groups and always maintained safe practices. Everyone who came in and out of the motel they’d made their home were always cautious. 

But Will was sick. 

“You shouldn’t be here,” Chris reprimanded, but Derek didn’t move. He couldn’t move. He’d been stationed outside of Will’s room in the infirmary for the past few days, mostly pacing. At first it was just a cough but then his fever set in and Derek hadn’t been able to sleep ever since. “It’s not good for you, Nursey.” 

“I know,” he muttered. And he did. Watching Will deteriorate was driving him mad. The chances of him recovering were unknown, but based on evidence of the world that they lived in now were likely slim. After that, Derek would have to be the one to burn his body. Well—Caitlin would insist someone else did it, but he and Will had agreed long ago they wouldn’t let it be anyone else if it came down to it. 

But what else was he supposed to do? It’s not like Derek could focus on absolutely anything else. There were only seven kids at the motel and if they went a few days without formal lessons then they’d be fine. Those of them who still had guardians weren’t complaining, and they could still meet up and read together if they wanted. Teacher responsibilities could wait.

“We have no way of knowing what it is and panicking isn’t going to help.”

Chris was always so soothing. Derek closed his eyes and tried to let himself accept his friend’s words, but it was hard. The last time something went around this bad it wiped out half of the camp they’d been staying in. Since then it had been more distance, less strangers. Until they found the motel. 

“Polly said tonight or tomorrow we’ll know more,” Derek told him. Their resident doctor, Polly, had nearly finished med school by the time the world fell apart and had fled one of the nearby camps when another spike of illness broke out with little hope for survival. She was their best hope at overcoming this new wave of sickness that Will had come down with. 

There were three cases in total at the motel and Will had been the second. After him everyone self-quarantined in their rooms for the most part until the other case appeared, but it’d been quiet since. Now everyone was waiting. 

They knew the drill. This wasn’t the first time anyone had faced uncertainty like this, just the most recent.

Will was sleeping now and Derek knew he should try and do the same, but he couldn’t leave. He was too afraid what could happen in his absence—that he wouldn’t be fast enough to get back to Will’s side if things turned for the worst. 

“He’s stable for now,” Chris tried again, practically reading his thoughts. “You should sleep. We’ve weathered worse before.”

Derek rolled his eyes to fight his tears and leveled his friend with a glare. “Like what?” 

“You were _stabbed_ , dude.” 

Derek folded his arms over his chest. “That’s different and you know it.” Other people—strangers—they could always be managed in ways things like illness couldn’t. Over the years that was always something they’d learned. “I don’t know how to do this without him.” Chris edged closer but didn’t say anything else as he finally turned, looking at Will through the glass window that separated them. “I never told him,” Derek said. He shook his head to correct, “Or we—didn’t talk about it.” 

Chris was wide-eyed when he turned back to him. “What do you mean?” 

He knew it was ridiculous, but if he was losing Will he thought he could finally voice it. 

“I mean we legitimately have never spoken about the two of us,” Derek said. “We just… were us.” 

“Derek,” Chris said sadly. “Tell me you’re not serious.” 

When the world went to shit their senior year of college, Derek and Will had been teetering on the edge of something great. SMH had been on a hot streak and the confidence the captaincy afforded Dex benefitted him everywhere. His smiles grew larger, more languid. He laughed like it was his favorite thing to do. Derek fell for him easily, unsurprised at how unsurprised he was when he finally admitted it to himself. 

But then the world ended; everyone got sick and people started dying, and it all happened so quickly that there wasn’t any time to think. Derek’s parents had been some of the first to go and he refused to return to New York, terrified of what would be there. Chris had only missed his flight back to California because Caitlin pleaded with him to stay and it was good she did—air traffic had been halted days later as the death toll began to mount. And Will—he stepped up and took the lead. He stocked the Haus up and shut the Haus down and he let anyone leave who wanted to go but told them they couldn’t come back. Most people went. 

It saved their lives.

There wasn’t time to fall in love in the middle of all of that.

But Derek did anyway; he already had been well on his way when they were sharing the ice in Faber and pretending to write papers by the lake. As his fears and his aches amplified, Will remained his anchor. When the world news got too much that Derek couldn’t see straight, Will turned it off. When service stopped connecting and phone calls stopped going through, Will distracted them all until they were able to get more information. Whenever Derek thought about his family and how quickly they’d been taken from him—how unbearable it felt to go on without them, Will would find him and lay beside him and they wouldn’t speak.

It wasn’t until one late night a few months after they’d been totally isolated, maybe six months after the peak of it all, did Derek see Will finally break; and it was only because Will _allowed_ Derek to see him that way. 

“I’m so tired,” he’d rasped, clutching Derek’s hand and fighting his tears. “We can’t stay here but I’m so afraid of what’s out there.” 

Derek drew him close and Will shook as he exhaled, letting himself be held. “You’re not doing it alone,” he reminded him. He could be strong for Will when he needed to be, and this had been one of those moments. He could see the fear in his eyes and the dark bags beneath them. “And—one day we’ll be able to find more people and we’ll just. Join up. And keep joining up until we’ve got this big community of people again. And we’ll all do things we want to do, kind of like before, but different. We’ll do it better.” 

Will hiccupped with a wet laugh. He’d clutched Derek’s arm and drew him close. “Don’t ever leave me,” he’d whispered. 

Derek’s eyes sprung with tears as he promised, “Never.”

From then they stayed together most nights, if only just to sleep better. When one of them shook with sadness the other would hold them until they could breathe again, and then they would get out of bed and go about their day like nothing and everything had changed. They made decisions together. Will stopped shouldering everything on his own. When they kissed it was always quick, hesitant, like neither of them thought they deserved it and were unsure what they should do now that they’d done it. 

Eventually they left the Haus. They followed the guidelines that came from the government through the radio—but eventually that too went to shit. From one camp in a community center to another in a football stadium, nothing was stable except the four of them sticking together. The second big outbreak happened when they were in the stadium and they had to relocate—this time to a motel with others who didn’t quite trust the camps anymore. 

With some luck, they stumbled onto the motel and found a community like Derek knew would happen. Their group grew here, there. They survived another season of death and worried it would become seasonal. They accepted strays and outcasts, vetted whoever walked through the door, collected ammo, started a garden. There were 37 of them now and they weren’t quite a family but they were a unit. 

Chris and Caitlin and Will, they were his family. And Will was his person.

Sometime between the beginning of the end and now, Derek became a permanent placement at Will’s side, and vice versa. But they’d never spoken about it in terms of romance or love. Not even once. In so many ways it didn’t feel important. They were committed to each other, always. But with Will on the other side of a wall that Derek couldn’t cross, he’d wished more than anything that they had. 

“It wasn’t supposed to be like this,” Derek said. 

Beside him, Chris sighed. “I know,” he whispered.

“None of it.”

Chris reached out hesitantly before wrapping his arm around Derek’s side and resting his head against his shoulder. They leaned into one another without words, knowing there wasn’t anything to say. Eventually he grabbed Derek’s hands and squeezed them before heading for his room, leaving Derek to wait alone.

When Polly arrived it was mostly to send Derek home. She was smaller than Lardo had been and had a voice thick with southern twang. Her presence was comforting in more ways than she’d ever be able to know. She told him that there were reports of other homesteads with the same thing. A new strain—a new virus. No way to tell if it had mutated or if it was something else, no way to know how deadly this one would be. There hadn’t been any information on recovery, but also no word of death.

“We have to stay hopeful,” she told him. “It’s been years since anyone’s gotten a regular flu shot. Will’s strong. His breathing has been strong.” 

Derek nodded and Polly reached out, grabbing his hand like Chris had. It was nice to know these people would still reach for him; that they would risk touching another person just to comfort him, even after everything they’d seen. 

“If anything changes,” Derek said lowly. “Send for me. Immediately. _Please_.”

“I’ve got you, Derek. Promise.”

He staggered off toward his and Will’s room and took as long as he could on the walk. They’d turned a section of the front office into the infirmary, easier to see through glass windows in some conference rooms, so there wasn’t too much he could do to extend the walk. He rounded their homestead and nodded at those on guard—Haley and Bud, Lars up in the tower—before circling around to peek at the garden. It was late and hard to see but nice to sit in a space that he knew was green, thriving with life. 

He tried to prepare himself for the silence of their room, but he couldn’t. They’d been given a room with two beds at first but had donated the spare back, freeing up space. Will still had his side and Derek had his but the space was very much theirs. They’d been here long enough that they had started decorating the walls, switching out furniture when they could. 

Derek hadn’t stayed alone in months. 

Why had Will gotten sick and not him? Or both of them? It didn’t make sense and Derek couldn’t help thinking about his parents, trapped and alone and begging him not to come home with their final phone call, and Will alone in that bed not even able to touch anyone, and himself alone in their bed tonight and maybe forever and—

Chris and Caitlin were just next door. He strode across the aisle and knocked and they answered immediately, ushering him inside until he was swaddled in blankets and wrapped in both of their arms. He started talking about Will and he couldn’t stop, squeezing in words that didn’t make sense between gasps as he cried, unable to stop himself from letting his fear get the best of him. 

“He can’t die,” he croaked, and Caitlin shushed him, smoothing down his hair until his words were nothing but scratches unable to claw their way out of his throat. 

Derek cried until he fell asleep but he couldn’t be sure that he slept, fitful and restless, until a knock on the door woke him at once. He knew even before Chris opened it that it was about Will and when it was Polly he sprinted, forgoing shoes as he raced the long cement strip to the stairwell, taking them down two flights to the infirmary. 

Which was quiet.

He rounded the corner with his heart in his throat and found Will sitting up in bed, looking exhausted. 

Derek threw himself against the window. “Will?” he rasped. Will turned his gaze toward Derek, managing a smile. “Will,” he said again. 

His fever had spiked but he was lucid. It was why Polly had come for him. 

“Hi,” he rasped. His skin was pale. It was awful to see him this way, lacking the color that made him so lovely. “Do you remember that time we stopped outside of Boston? And we went to that gift shop?” Derek nodded as Will spoke, already fighting tears. Will had beckoned him here to say goodbye. “And you found that stupid lunchbox.”

“Yeah.” He couldn’t forget. It was a classic tin lunchbox with the most ridiculous lobster drawing on the side, it’s eyes twice as large as they should be.

 _You need things_ , Derek had argued. _One day we’ll be able to stop and you’ll need things again and you won’t have anything._

 _I won’t need that ridiculous lunchbox,_ Will countered. 

_I’ll carry it if you won’t_ , Derek said. _You can put things in it. Double use!_

_I’m ditching it in whatever place we end up next, Nurse._

“I still have it. In my lockbox. Sometimes I put notes in it.” Will took a deep breath and looked elsewhere as he said, “If I don’t make it—“

“Stop,” Derek cut him off. He pressed himself harder against the glass, wishing he could just push through it. He hated that he was still so far away. “No. Stop. Okay? You’re going to make it.”

Will still wouldn’t look at him. He blinked hard a few times and said, “Just read them.” 

“ _Will_. You’re gonna make it, okay?”

His words slurred together as he said, “Promise me you’ll read them.” 

Derek pressed his forehead to the window and swallowed his sob. It rattled inside of him like a chain had gone off track, something that would send a machine screaming that something had gone wrong. 

“ _Will_ ,” he pleaded. He hated that everything was muffled through the glass that separated them. “Don’t make me do that now, _please_. Just look at me.” 

Eventually he turned, shifting his saddened gaze to Derek. “I don’t want to die,” he whispered, panicked, just loud enough that Derek could hear him. “I don’t want to die like everyone else, I, I—“ 

“You won’t,” Derek rushed, fighting every urge to collapse onto himself and weep. “We’ve made it so far! I can feel it. You’re going to be okay and we’re going to be together and it’ll be good. It’s going to be so good, Will, you don’t even know.”

Will let out a wet laugh and shook his head. “The world ended years ago Derek how the fuck are you still so optimistic sometimes?” 

“I just know,” Derek told him. He had faith and he could feel it. He hadn’t accepted losing Will so he wasn’t going to die and that was that. They still had so much to do, so much to see, so much to become. The world would never be normal again but they could be together and make their way side by side. “If you trust me like you say then you have to believe me.” 

“Is that how it works?”

“Yeah.” 

Will looked at him for a long moment before he caved, dropping his head into his hands. “I want to believe you,” he croaked.

Derek wanted to hold him. It ached more than he knew was possible that Will was just on the other side of the wall and he still couldn’t reach him. It wasn’t fair—none of this was fair. 

Polly reappeared them, likely listening from just out of earshot. She layered up before entering Will’s room and tending to him, wiping his forehead with a rag and giving him another dose of medicine. Derek stayed close, watching through the windows as Will slipped back into fevered murmurings.

She tried to shoo him again but Derek wouldn’t let Polly tell him to go. He found a chair and pulled it over to the glass and told her he was staying until something changed. 

The next afternoon, Will’s fever broke. He was the first of the three to recover.

Polly hesitated to let Will leave but a week after he was no longer presenting symptoms, she sent him back to his room. He and Derek would quarantine a little longer, see if Derek developed any symptoms of his own, maybe go through all of this all over again. But if they were clear, and Derek had faith that they would be, they could rejoin the group in no time at all. 

The moment the door was shut and they were alone in their room together, something inside of Derek shattered. They wrapped themselves around one another and both of them sobbed, clinging to the other like if they let go then one of them might disappear completely. Derek breathed him in; pressed his lips to any spot on Will’s face that he could reach, dragged his fingers through his hair, cupped his cheeks and drew him up so they could look at one another. 

“Don’t ever leave me,” Derek ordered as his voice shook. 

Will pressed in for a kiss. “Never,” he whispered as he pulled back. 

Derek’s eyes flooded with tears again as he laughed and Will laughed too, just as teary-eyed, and Derek kissed him again just because he could. 

That night, as they lay side by side in bed again, Derek closed his eyes and savored the moment for what it is. Will was beside him, breathing, existing. He’d never take it for granted again.

Will was looking at the ceiling but Derek hadn’t been able to look anywhere else. “Do you think we’re ever gonna just…” Will trailed off with a sigh, finally looking in Derek’s direction. “Not be afraid?” 

Derek shook his head a little. “I don’t know. I hope so.” He leaned in close and snatched a quick kiss. “I know I’m not afraid _right now_ ,” he whispered. 

Will’s mouth curved up into a smile, but the unanswered part of that hung heavy around them. In a place like this, with other people, there would always be a risk. They could never control what others did, where they went, what they brought back. 

“If you want to leave,” Derek whispered, sensing Will’s thoughts might be somewhere similar to his own, “we can leave. We can go anywhere.” 

“You need people,” Will responded, shaking his head.

“I just need you. And Chowder and Farms.” 

It had always just been the four of them. That was all Derek needed. They could find some remote cabin in the mountains and make a new home for themselves, all over again. They could start again with less fear but more loneliness. 

Still, Will shook his head. “We _all_ need people,” he corrected tiredly. “We should stay. We can’t run forever.” He swiped his thumb over Derek’s jawline before adding, “You taught me that.” Derek leaned into his hand and let his eyes drift shut. The world felt so large and scary sometimes, but with Will by his side it didn’t seem like he couldn’t handle it. “Derek,” Will said gently. “You’re my person too. You know that right?” 

Derek eased his eyes open until he and Will were looking at each other. “Yeah,” he whispered. They didn’t need to speak about it—he’d always known it to be true. “I know that.” 

Will blinked a few times before smiling, something crooked and wonderful. “Remember freshman year when you used to tug on my ears?” 

The sudden grin that overtook Derek was surprising. He shifted how he was sprawled, reaching up so he could tug at Will’s ears now. He leaned into it to lessen the yank as Derek pulled gently, nodding. “Feels like another life.” 

“Nursey,” Will hummed fondly, and Derek’s heart sang. It’d been so long since he’d heard Will call him that—even longer since he’d called him _Dex_. “Imagine who we could’ve been.” 

“I do, sometimes. I like to think…” he trailed off, but Will nodded him on. “I like to think that it still would’ve been me and you.” 

Will gathered Derek into his arms and sighed. “It would’ve,” he told him. 

“I’d be published by now,” Derek dreamed on, encouraged by Will’s affirmation of the life they could’ve had. “And you’d have used that smart brain of yours to make some genius code and just be filthy rich.” Will let out a soft chuckle and turned, pressing a kiss to Derek’s temple. “And we’d have an apartment in the city.”

“Which one?” Will wondered.

“Whichever.” It didn’t matter. Sometimes NYC, sometimes Boston, sometimes Chicago. “Big open windows so I could have plants.”

Will was quiet for a moment. “And we would have pets?” he wondered.

“Yeah,” Derek agreed. “Get you that dog you’ve always wanted.” He craned his neck back to look in Will’s direction and found him with his eyes shut, eyebrows furrowed together, maybe trying to picture this fake future of theirs.

Derek leaned over and pressed a soft kiss to Will’s jaw, smiling as his eyes eased open. “Weird world,” Will murmured.

Whether he meant this new one that they'd been braving together, or the concept of the old one that could've been magnificent, Derek couldn't be sure, but he nodded in agreement.

Either way it didn't matter. This was what they had now, and they had to make it work.

**Author's Note:**

> thinking of making this a little series post-end of the world. (unfortunately i have always been a big End Of the World fic fan even before well current circumstances and i love me some angst). anyone interested? any scenes you'd like to see? 
> 
> leave some love if you can, and be well! find me on tumblr/twitter @jennybeantime


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